


Hooded Eyes

by Justanothersinger



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: M/M, a red riding hood au, and this stupid monstrosity ended up, another beast over and done with, being even longer, enjoy, i gave up on a fic because it was too big, in any case, that no-one asked for, that's more of a loose interpretation, the irony being that just yesterday, why the fucking, xin the amt of suffering i do for you, you're lucky i love you you meanie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-11 12:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5626024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justanothersinger/pseuds/Justanothersinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'When the townspeople didn't whisper of...several other things, they spoke of the wolf that roamed the forest. A bloodthirsty creature that blended with the shadows and ate any trespasser foolish enough to stumble upon it.'<br/>'But what they didn't know would probably kill him.'</p><p>'So he thinks as he hears the wolf howl again.'</p><p>Chrobin red riding hood AU[kind of]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hooded Eyes

Hooded eyes.

A Fire Emblem: Awakening fanfiction

 

 

"You're going to need to go to town and get more food, Robin."

So said his brother as he pointed Robin to the basket. And Robin did grumble a bit about it, but he took it with a sigh and fetched his coat.

 

They  _were_ starting to run out of supplies, but...couldn't they hold out a bit longer?

 

"We can, but there's a storm heading our way soon. And unless you want to fall off the mountain to your extremely painful and gory death, you should probably go now. Or do you want to starve then freeze up on the mountain? Choice is yours." His brother says, with a deadpan expression.

"Fine, fine already." Robin says, holding up his hand, "I'm leaving."

 

"Try to come back before sunset, will you."

"Can't make any promises."

 

And so he set off from their little cottage, pulling his hood over his head and heading for the town below.

 

This was much easier said than done.

 

_Aren't there several other places for us to live out of sight that_ didn't  _involve a more-than-certain chance of painful death, sunny day or not?_ Robin thinks, exasperated, as he avoids stumbling for the fourth time. A new personal record; he'd hardly been on his feet so long in as many minutes.

When he somehow manages to make it to the foot of the mountain in one piece, he stops for a bit to rest.

 

Or at least that's what he's trying to convince himself he's doing.

 

"...It's early."

_Would the other townspeople be awake, already?_  He hoped not. A glance at the list told him that they needed more food and things than before because of the onset of the rainy season.

He'd take longer than usual getting what they needed. And that meant he'd need to stay there longer.

 

_Better_ _get it over with._

 

He thinks this as he steps forward...and stops dead when he hears it.

 

What was it? He didn't recognize the noise at first because he's never heard it before.

 

But he has a good idea of what it is.

 

"A wolf's howl...?"

 

He had a good idea of what it was because he'd heard the stories.

 

When the townspeople didn't whisper of...several other things, they spoke of the wolf that roamed the forest. A bloodthirsty creature that blended with the shadows and ate any trespasser foolish enough to stumble upon it.

And either Robin hadn't stuck around to hear the whole story or there were actually people foolish enough to cry wolf in this situation, but he was pretty sure that the beast only wandered about at night.

 

He hears the howl again, it shakes him free of his train of thought. This time, it was louder, more...desperate.

 

For some reason, it gave Robin a bad feeling.

 

He looks at the town and then at the forest.

 

And he starts walking again.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It's the end.

It's the end for him.

 

He somehow manages to drag himself up on his feet. His head is spinning and his knees knock together but he manages to drag himself up on his feet somehow. He grits his teeth and ready himself for the next blow.

It may be the end for him, but he would not give in.

 

It rushes at him again with a terrible, heart-rending cry and he lunges forward as well.

 

But then, there's nothing in front of him, he claws at empty air.

 

He hears a shriek from the side, literally three inches from his ear and the pain of it makes him recoil. From the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of purple and hears the crackle of lightning.

"...W-what?!"

 

"Risen, here?!" He hears a voice shout and he leaps back to see it. The strange scene unfolding before his eyes.

 

A man wearing the mark of Grima, etched into the very fibers of his cloak, with lightning crackling in his fingertips. He sees the monster growl at him, reach for him with its rotting claws and before he could even move, the man whispers words in a foreign language and fires a bolt at it again.

It hits the monster again, it falls apart into rotting dust before the light even phases out of its body.

 

It's gone.

Gone.

 

He stands there breathing heavily for another minute before he feels the world spin, his back hits the ground and the sky fills his view.

   
He hears footsteps and the man stands over him. He sees white hair and wide, strangely innocent looking eyes.

 

"Are you alright?!" The man asks and he thinks he should reply, but he can't. His eyelids are heavy, his mouth refuses to move.

And all he could think about the color of the sky.

 

He hears a gasp and feels feverish hands on his skin. He manages to look back down to see the man again.

 

In the man's hands was the long, sinewy leg of a wolf. Covered in raggedy hair, matted with blood and filth.

And as the sky lightened more and more, heading towards that same, dreaded blue, the hair of his skin started to recede. Until he saw thin fingers and an arm, until he could feel the transformation affect the rest of his body as well.

  
"A werewolf..." He hears the man whisper, "So, it is true."

 

And with those words, he feels the dregs of a chill run up his spine.

A werewolf. 

 

A cursed being. 

 

If the man knows what he is...then, the only option is death. 

Because who would help a werewolf?

 

He closes his eyes just as a warm hand touches his cheek. 

 

For some reason, death smelled of flowers. 

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

He opens his eyes. 

Funny, because he wasn't expecting to do that again.

 

The thought drifts across his mind and it makes him pause. Why did he think that? 

  
Because he was supposed to be dead. 

 

All the memories from before came rushing back to him and he tries to sit up, but flinches at the stabbing pains on his chest. On his arms. On his back, on his legs, oh god it was  _everywhere-_

Warm hands on his shoulders and he's lowered back down gently. "Be careful. You shouldn't move so quickly just yet."

 

A familiar voice. He looks up to see the cloaked man from earlier.

 

He's not wearing the cloak now though. White hair framing dark eyes, creating a strangely eerily, and beautiful contrast. And he looked younger than he expected.

 

"Where...?" His throat is dry, "Where am I?"

"Still in the forest. I managed to pull you aside into a more sheltered part of it so I can tend to your wounds. I couldn't do much, but..."

 

He looks down and sees bandages covering his arms, his torso, his legs...wherever he felt he was hurt, essentially. He could smell some kind of herbal salve on them too.

 

The boy scratches his cheek. Smudges it with some kind of paste. "It...smells a bit, I know. How do you feel now?"

 

"Like I was kicked in the head. But..." He waves his arm around experimentally, "Much better than I'd expect. A little lightheaded maybe, but better than before."

"I see. Understandable, you've lost a lot of blood."

 

"I did?"

"Most of your wounds were frighteningly deep. A normal human would be dead before an hour passed."

 

A normal human. It was clear enough what the boy meant.

He feels his heart speed up and his body groan in agony as he pushes himself up to his feet. 

 

"...! What-?!"

  
"You...you saw what I am. You know!" 

 

"Um." The boy blinks. Despite the boy's startled tone, he's still unarmed. No tome in sight. And not for lack of reflex either; he saw how quick on his feet the boy was. 

Very odd. 

"Yes, I do." The boy continues, "Mostly because I saw you transform back when the sun rose. Ah." Something seems to occur to him then, "Is it because I'm not supposed to see your human form? Is that it?" 

 

"What do you mean?" He asks. This was...weird.

 

"I've just never seen a werewolf before. Or any kind of shapeshifter really. So I'm woefully ignorant in whatever kind of social customs your kind has and-"

"...I meant...aren't you scared of me?" 

 

The boy pauses. He seems to be considering his answer. 

 

"Apart from the usual kind of wariness? Like, around strangers? Not really. You're not in any kind of condition to even pose a threat to me right now." 

"How...do you know that?" 

 

The boy shrugs, "Call it instincts. Also the fact that you look like you're in pain from just breathing." 

 

"You...what?" 

 

He didn't realize it, but he's swaying on his feet. The boy moves forward to help him back to the ground. 

 

It's warm. 

The touch of a human's skin. 

 

"You still need to recover your strength. Come on." 

 

"Why...?" He needed to ask. He had to. "Why do you trust me? I'm a werewolf."

 

"Technically speaking, I don't  _trust_ you. I've heard the stories they tell about you." 

 

"That...those stories are not true!" He yells and it's quite a sudden outburst; it makes the boy flinch. Fingers gripping on his hand. But the boy nods his head like he expected that answer. 

"I know. Despite your terrifying forms, surprisingly few shapeshifters ever take human lives. They either mostly restrain themselves to hunting wildlife or just starving themselves out. But...they do pose a viable threat to humans, yes."

 

The boy says this as if he's reciting an essay off the top of his head. And he's recovered enough to see the sharp look in the boy's eyes. A kind of look he'd learnt to associate with intelligence.

He remembers the lightning from earlier. 

 

"You're a mage, right?"

  
  
"...I am." 

 

Well, that certainly explains a few things. In addition to learning and casting spells, mages tended to be the kind of people who were extremely well-informed about the going-ons of the world. One of the side-effects to studying magic; you can't attack what you don't know.

But he'd never seen a mage with Grimleal colors before. 

 

Grimleal. 

 

It's at this point that he realizes the boy had lain his cloak over him, covering his...lack of clothes. 

 

Embarrassment aside, the design of eyes etched into the fabric of the sleeves gave him a foreboding feeling. 

 

"I won't hurt you either." The boy says then, as if knowing what he's thinking, "So let's...keep it like that,"

"...Yeah." 

 

"Good." The boy appears slightly more cheerful now, "Do you feel a bit better now?" 

"Yeah. I think I can stand." 

"That's good. We need to keep moving." 

 

"Keep moving? Why?"

"They're starting to move too. The Risen." 

 

The Risen. The monsters from earlier.

 

"Their name is the Risen?" He asks as he gingerly gets to his feet. He tenses a bit when the boy moves close and draws the cloak properly around him, covering him.

 

"...Oh." The boy blinks, realizing just how close he was to him, "Uh. Sorry." And he steps away, appearing more than a little embarrassed, "Y-yeah, they're called Risen." 

 

"I never knew." He says, "I've seen them before but...!"

  
And then he remembers something else.

 

 

"I have to warn them!" He starts to run almost immediately, feels his head spin and-

"Whoa, whoa!"

 

Warm hands on his shoulders steadying him, "Calm down! You're still really unsteady! What's wrong?"

"My sisters..! I need to warn them!"

 

"Huh?"

"The Risen are headed for our home! I need to warn them!"

 

"I said calm down! You're going to tear your stitches open!" The boy barks at him. Finally, once he's settled down a bit, the boy says, "I'll help you. Just...you shouldn't panic!" 

 

"F-fine." 

"Right. Now come on. Lead me to wherever they are." 

He takes a deep breath and nods, setting off for his home. The boy falling into step behind him, still supporting him carefully.

 

"Thank you...um..."

"Robin." The boy supplies for him, "My name's Robin."

 

"Thank you, Robin. Mine's Chrom."

Robin gives him a brief smile, "The circumstances aren't exactly normal, but it's nice to meet you." 

 

Now there was an understatement if Chrom had ever heard one. 

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

The wolves' hideaway was already surrounded.

 

"Why is there so many of them?" Chrom asks, horrified. He can feel his arm shaking against Robin's steady form.

"Ugh...I expected something like this." Robin says quietly.

 

"What do you mean?"

"The Risen that attacked you earlier weren't acting like they normally do." Robin gestures to them, "They're essentially re-animated corpses; they can't exactly formulate battle strategies or anything of the sort. And yet you were driven into a corner while they all attacked you simultaneously."

Robin frowns as he continues, "Their attacking pattern came off as incredibly strange to me because they essentially drove you into a corner and attacked you like that. In turns with their most powerful and less faster ones staying behind and the less powerful ones and more faster ones staying up front."

 

"...W-what? Really?!"

 

"Yeah. It seemed much too organized for a bunch of shambling corpses. Of course, there is an explanation for it."

"And that is?"

Robin's expression is incredibly grim now.

 

 "Someone else is controlling them. Someone very much  _alive._ "

 

"Wh-what?! Is that even possible?!" 

"Unfortunately, it is. In fact, it's quite frequent among the Grimleal." 

 

"Can you stop it?" 

"Hm?" Robin then seems to realize what Chrom means, "Oh. Uh, no. I'm not...I can't. I don't possess the ability to. Sorry." 

 

"No, it's fine. But we're going to need a figure a way out." Chrom growls, "My sisters are in there. And I'm not leaving until I am sure they're safe." 

"And I don't plan to either." Robin closes his eyes for a bit, as if thinking it over. 

 

"You should leave. It's not safe for you." 

 

"And leave them to finish you off?" Robin asks with a raised eyebrow.

At the look on Chrom's face, Robin takes a deep breath and continues, "Thank you for...worrying about me. But I'll be fine. And I want to help you." 

 

"...Alright." Chrom scratches his head, "Truthfully, I'm relieved to have you helping me. Thanks." 

 

Robin smiles again. And smiling suits him, Chrom thinks. It wipes the world-weary look from his eyes. 

What an odd thought. 

 

They stare at each other for a bit longer before Robin clears his throat.

  
"...How do you feel now?"

 

"No better than the last time you asked me. But I'll live." Chrom says. 

"I can work with that." Robin stands up then, shouldering his bag, "I'll whip up a distraction. You try to sneak through and help them. Alright?" 

 

"Alright." 

 

And Robin draws close and unclasps the cloak around Chrom's neck. In the light of the setting sun, he's close enough for Chrom to see the brown of his eyes. 

Enough to see them shine, a determined glint that claws at his heart.

_Click._

 

"Let's go."

 

A growl rumbling in his throat and Chrom leaps forward. 

 

And from the corner of his eye, he sees the cloak whip around Robin's shoulders, a book open in his hands. 

And wind streams through the fur that rips along Chrom's skin. 

  
"Arcwind!" 

 

He hears grunts, the equivalent of shocked yells from the undead. 

But more importantly, he hears screams. Voices familiar to him. 

 

"What's happening?!" 

 

Emm! Lissa! 

He suppresses the urge to roar, settling instead for another growl. 

He only stops when he feels familiar eyes on him.

 

"Chrom?!" Lissa whispers. She's still in her human form. So is Emmeryn. 

 

He smells blood and feels anger beat through his own. 

  
A cool hand on his forehead stops him. 

 

"Are you hurt?!" Emmeryn demands. Her eyes narrow at the wounds, dried blood on his fur. But there's no time to talk about it. 

 

When he looks out, he sees lightning now. Like before, crackling from Robin's fingertips and dancing around his form on the charred earth.

 

They needed to leave. Now.

He paws the ground, whines softly. Emmeryn hesitates but nods, hiding Lissa behind her. 

 

 

Hands grasping his fur and he sets off. 

 

Just in time to hear a pained cry. 

 

To see Robin gasp, clutching his chest. His bag falls to the ground, its contents spilled. 

Tomes, a sword. A mirror.

And an arrow buried in his side. 

 

"...!"

"So they've finally made their move." Robin mumbles. He reaches down and pulls the arrow out in one swift movement, teeth gritted. 

There's a strange light in his eyes now. 

 

He scans the area, seemingly ignoring the enemies right in front of him. What he does see though, seems to put a smile on his face. 

 

It's then that Chrom notices a rather odd detail. He doesn't even know why he took note of it in the first place; all he knows is that he saw it. 

The mirror was right under Robin. 

 

"You've finally found us again." Robin says, voice low. Almost a purr, poisonous intent, potent and deadly, "But unlike him,  _I'm_ not going to surrender without a fight."

 

"...?"

"Chrom...what is that mirror?" Lissa whispers suddenly. At his questioning growl, she continues, "I'm...getting a weird feeling from it. And that guy too...!"

 

What?

 

"No!"

Robin's voice? But he wasn't-

 

"Chrom! The mirror!" 

 

Robin seems to have marched off now. To the Risen flanking his sides, he blows them all away with a single spell. 

Lissa leaves his side then and picks it up. A glance and a horrified expression takes over her features. 

 

"Lissa?"

"Ch-chrom?! Isn't this-?!"

 

She's unable to finish her sentence as just then, a ghoulish howl cuts through the air. Tapering towards an almost human-like shriek. 

 

A little ways away, there's an assassin on his knees. Robin standing before him. 

The crackle of magic in his fingertips seems different now.

   
It sends a chill down Chrom's spine. 

 

"Is this all you could do?" Robin was asking. His voice has a sweet, childlike tint to it that seems more and more wrong the more Chrom listens to him, "I'm insulted. Did he seriously think this much was a challenge for me? To catch us after so long?" 

The assassin groans and Chrom smells more blood. 

 

"In any case, you won't need to live with his mistake for very long." 

 

And on cue, the lightning crackles in his hand again.

Dark magic.

 

"Die."

 

He doesn't know what possesses him then, but he finds it in him to move. 

The mirror is colder than it should be in his hand as he throws himself at Robin. 

 

"...What?!" 

He's reverted back enough into his human form that he manages to choke out, "No!"

 

Enough to shove the mirror in front of Robin's face again, long enough for the lightning to fade away from his hands and for the boy to sink to his knees. 

 

By the time he'd returned to his senses, the assassin had disappeared and Robin was beside him. On the ground and groaning in pain.

He tries to move and finds himself in the same position.

 

"R...Robin?" 

He hears cursing from somewhere and his name from somewhere else. 

 

"Chrom?" Robin blinks and looks up at him then. 

Brown eyes.

"Chrom!" Lissa pops into his field of vision just then and she pulls him into a tight hug, "What the heck were you doing?!"

 

"Uh..."

"This is..." A soft interjection on Emmeryn's part and he looks up to see her holding the mirror. 

 

"Oh." Something seems to occur to Robin just then and he frowns at the mirror, "Don't tell me you-"

"I didn't do anything."

  
Robin's voice responded. It came from the mirror, uncannily similar. An echo? 

But even from here, he could make out a face that looked eerily similar to Robin's in the mirror. 

 

"I took most of the pain for you when that dastard shot you." The other Robin points out,"Besides, one less person in the world won't affect him greatly."

"We've gone over this. I'm not going to let you take over next time. There won't even be a next time." Robin says. He doesn't sound shocked or terrified in the least. Instead, he sounds weary, fatigued.

"Whatever you say." The other Robin says. Was it Chrom's imagination or did he see his eyes flash a crimson red?

  
"Chrom?"

"Huh?" He looks up and Robin's face is suddenly much closer. Warm hands tugging his own. "Are you alright?" Robin asks.

 

"Y-yeah." Chrom manages. He moves to sit up and groans; Lissa immediately helps him up, "What about you?"

"I-I'm. I'm fine. That, uh", Robin tilts his head towards the mirror, "That happens more than I care to admit." 

 

"R-really?"

"Yeah." Robin doesn't seem willing to say anything more on the matter until Emmeryn says, "I've only heard of a case like this once before. Of a mage with Grimleal colors who could summon his own reflection as his familiar. The villagers whispered of him but..." 

She turns towards him, a serious expression on her face, "So the rumors are true?" 

 

"...In a way." Robin says. It seems evasive and he doesn't say anything else. But Emmeryn seems to drop it then. 

 

"We should move. We'll need to find a new area for our den." 

  
"Ugh. I just got used to the last one too." Lissa gripes. But she does get to her feet, gingerly pulling Chrom up as well. 

 

"We should go too, Robin."

"Ah, right." Robin says. He takes the mirror away from Emmeryn and moves to get his bag. 

 

Maybe it's his imagination but...

Seeing his figure cut against the scenery of the gloomy forest...

 

"Where do you live?" 

"Huh?" Robin looks back and Chrom asks again, "Where do you live?"

 

Robin blinks, "In a...there's a cottage in the woods. Why?" 

"Is it ok if I come visit?"

 

He hears the mirror say something about what a stupid question that was. But Robin seems to pay no heed. 

An array of expression seems to pass over his face.

Disbelief, almost comical, to a strange kind of uncertainty that tugs at Chrom's heart. 

 

To another expression that could only be described as a beautiful kind of joy. 

 

He's smiling now and he says something that sounds hushed, shaky, uncertain, like the sealing of a pact. A promise. 

 

"Sure."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


End file.
